


Second hand faith

by Ischa



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Disturbing Themes, Drabble Collection, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-07-28
Updated: 2011-07-28
Packaged: 2017-10-21 21:39:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/230118
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ischa/pseuds/Ischa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam is trying to break the demon deal.</p><p><i>“What’s in the jar?” Dean asks as he enters the restaurant.<br/>Sam doesn’t even try to hide it. “Just some mist.” He says.<br/>“You are getting weirder and weirder every day, you know that?” Dean asks with a frown.<br/>“Tell me something new…” Sam mutters.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	Second hand faith

**Title:** Second hand faith   
**Pairing:** none  
 **Rating:** PG - 13  
 **Summary:** Sam is trying to break the demon deal.  
 **Warning(s):** written during season 3, evil Sam (kind of), angst (yeah…I know…), death of innocent people (we don’t know them, so we will not cry), humour  
 **Author Notes:** I wrote this a while ago. Oh, yes the title is shamelessly stolen from Emilie Autumn.  
 **Word Count:** 26 X 100  
 **Beta:** asm-z  
 **Disclaimer:** Don’t know, don’t own, not real

\--+--  
~1~  
You know you’re bored out of your mind when you’re starting to search for porn on the internet – not that that is a very difficult task, Sam thinks. He’s a little disgusted with himself but not that much. Really what is there else to do in this creepy (yes, creepy he thinks) motel when not surfing the net? He could have found something else – like a virtual walk trough the Louvre or something like that, but Dean is somewhere with someone and well…he’s just a guy. And he hadn’t any since…well a long, long, long time. So, porn it is.

~2~  
When he finally finds something interesting – he’s picky because he can’t watch anything with blonds (because of Jessica) and brunettes are kind of taboo too (because of Madison), he settles for Asian girls (hopefully he will never date an Asian girl because…well that would be awkward) – an advertisement catches his eye. He has seen a lot of this stuff really – in his line of work and all - but something about it… _whatever_ he thinks and clicks. (The Asian girl porn forgotten.)  
The website isn’t fancy at all. Plain black background with pale blue letters. “ The open eye” it reads.

~3~  
It doesn’t say much besides that though and Sam thinks it’s just a joke, but he keeps searching the site for something else anyway. And he’s lucky, there is an e-mail address. Nothing fancy or stupid like “Madame Orelia” or “Witch Thea” just Barbara at something dot com. He isn’t sure why he writes an e-mail (maybe because he feels guiltier about the porn thing than he lets himself think about…) and asks her what it is she’s selling, because he couldn’t find anything on the website. Fortunetelling or is she palm reading or tarot? Love potions? Spells? Hoodoo? Curses?

~4~  
Dean enters the room when he’s checking his e-mails again (the tenth time in three hours). Sam feels like he’s been caught with his hand in the cookie jar – and he doesn’t know why.

“Were you watching internet porn, Sammy Winchester?” Dean asks with a grin. Sam sighs and shakes his head. “You sure look like it. All guilty.” He says. Sam fights a blush. “Were you searching for a way out of the demon-deal?” he asks sharper. Sam shakes his head again. “Why is it that I don’t believe you?” Dean wants to know.

“No idea.” Sam says shrugging.

~5~  
Dean puts a coffee cup on the table and looks at Sam. “Why are you up already?” he asks. “Couldn’t sleep.” Sam says.

“And why are you on the laptop again?” Dean wants to know – he has THE LOOK again. His 'I’m a bastard sometimes, but I’m your big brother and I don’t want you to suffer.’-look. Sam ignores it.

“Checking e-mails.” He answers and hopes Dean would just let him be for once.

“Keeping in touch with your friends still?” Dean asks. Sam nods. It isn’t a lie. He does that too.  
And there it is: Re: Some questions.

~6~  
“I will be out this afternoon.” Sam says and stands up.

“You will?” Dean raises an eyebrow.

“Yes, I have to do some research – could be a job.” Sam answers. That isn’t a lie either. It could be if this woman really is the real thing.

“Need any help?” Dean asks. He’s eager to do something (the demons are strangely quiet and all) Sam knows, but he shakes his head anyway.

“No, not yet.” Dean stays silent.

“I’ll be back…I don’t know, I have my cell.” Sam says and is out of the door before Dean can ask more questions.

~7~  
He nearly walks right by because her shop isn’t fancy. Just a plain sign. How does the woman earn her money like that? Maybe she’s like Missouri, Sam thinks entering.

“Welcome,” she says, her voice dark and soft. “Please take a seat.” She ushers him in to the small table. He takes the blue chair, so she takes the pink one and laughs softly at his choice. “Is it because he calls you a girl?” she wants to know, Sam nods before he can even wonder. “Well, then what can I do for you, Sam?” she wants to know then.

~8~  
He takes a deep breath and then tells her about the demon-deal. She doesn’t call him crazy and doesn’t interrupt, just nods. “So you really want some Second hand faith, don’t you?” she looks into his eyes, searching for something. He sure as hell hopes she finds it. She doesn’t seem to be one for just making money.

“I really need it.” He says earnestly. It’s true after all.

“Well, Sam. Let me see your palm then.” She says and Sam lets her take his hand. Her eyes go white and milky. Misty. And he knows and so does she.

~9~  
“What’s in the jar?” Dean asks as he enters the restaurant.

Sam doesn’t even try to hide it. “Just some mist.” He says.

“You are getting weirder and weirder every day, you know that?” Dean asks with a frown.

“Tell me something new…” Sam mutters.

“Man, I’m itching for something to kill…what are these demons waiting for, I wonder…” Dean says between bites.

“How should I know?” Sam says irritated.

“Wow, Sammy! Don’t bite my head of.” Sam stays silent. “You need a girl…really, take that one.” He says with a nod in the waitress’ direction. Sam blushes. She’s Asian.

~10~  
They’re doing a job in another nameless town (Vampires. And Dean is as happy as e a boy in a candy shop.) when he finds another one. He nearly doesn’t go because this one has a fancy name, website AND a shop with all the right ballyhoo: scented candles, dark curtains, Indian music, lots of crystals and funny looking things in jars. But he figures it can’t hurt to check the guy out. (And how does that sound…he smirks to himself). The man is Dean’s age and Sam thinks that’s a good sign when he lets him read the tarot.

~11~  
“Is that a tarot card in a jar full of water?” Dean asks.

Sam nods. “It’s the 3 of swords to be precise,” he says.

“Dude…really, do I have to call an ambulance? Or do you want to talk to the nice doc Ellicott again?” His tone is flippant but Sam knows Dean is a little freaked out by his behaviour.

“Nah… I told him our incest secrets the last time…I think he doesn’t want to know anything else about me.” Sam answers and tries hard not to laugh because, clearly, Dean doesn’t find it that funny. Well, Sam does.

~12~  
He wakes because he dreams about misty eyes in the airless, dark space between the stars.  
“A bad dream?” Dean asks. Sam nods slowly. It wouldn’t do him much good to lie now. Dean gives him THE LOOK again.

“Do we have to talk about it?” Sam asks, irritated with Dean and himself.

“Nope.” Dean says and turns to watch something or other on TV.

Sam sighs. “Dean…” he tries, but Dean waves his hand in dismissal. Well, good that we talked about it, he thinks and smiles. That’s the Winchester spirit: hush everything up until it stays dead forever.

~13~  
“Not evil clowns again!” Sam says in disbelief.

“Nah…the last one wasn’t a real clown. I think these are real clowns…maybe a witch is messing with the dark side of the moon…” Dean answers.

“Yeah…I’ll go and check the local press and you… can go and ask questions because I sure as hell am not going to talk with clowns.” Sam says, grabbing the keys for the Impala without waiting for Dean to agree.  
Evil clowns in a circus…well, nothing new here for Sam. He knew all along that clowns are evil and will eat him one day – or night.

~14~  
It turns out to be a spirit of a dead clown possessing other clowns. How stupid is that? Well no one said that spirits – especially vengeful ones – are smart. It’s a short job from there: They dig up the bones, salt and burn them, and then they celebrate. Well, Dean celebrates with a lot of whisky and an Asian girl and Sam goes back to the circus. There was a gypsy telling fortunes.  
She’s old and looks harsh; her eyes are sharp and her smile toothless.

“I’ve been waiting for you.” She says when he approaches. He really isn’t surprised.

~15~  
“Go ahead read my fortune.” He says and smiles at her. She smiles back with her toothless mouth then she tells him to sit in front of the fire and he knows she’s real as well.

“Is that glowing fire in the jar?” Dean asks the next day a little bit groggy.

“Yeah…rough night?” Sam wants to know.

“Yes…I tell you the Asian girls these days…there is no geisha in them.” Dean answers and goes to the bathroom. Sam has to laugh. He puts the jar away with the other two and asks himself how much longer it will take.

~16~  
Sam is glad that they’re hunting demons, because he would’ve gone crazy by now. Not a single real fortune teller in months. He’s on edge and even Dean sees it. He doesn’t tell Sam to find a girl anymore, because the last time it ended in a shouting match.

He feels better covered in gore and blood and knows that something isn’t right with that. “You know that was…” Dean begins.

“I know.” Sam answers and prays to all the gods he knows (of course he believes in just THE GOD but mind you) that Dean doesn’t ask. He doesn’t.

~17~  
Dean asks a few weeks later because of a werewolf job they’re doing.  
“That wasn’t like you at all.” Dean says. Sam looks up from a book he was reading.

“What?” he wants to know.

“That…you know. No angst and these are humans and all that stuff…I mean after Madison…” Dean says.

“They killed people…and there wasn’t much angst because of Gordon either.” Sam says. “True…I was wondering Sam.” Dean says.

“There is nothing wrong with me.” Sam answers. But there is _everything_ wrong with him and they both know it. But the Winchester credo works this time as well.

~18~  
He’s African and black like the night. He looks ancient but still handsome. So maybe not ancient, but timeless, Sam thinks. He uses some kind of runes Sam has never seen before. Stone. Earth.

“Sam, we have to talk about your little `things in jars – obsession´. Don’t you think?” Dean says when he sees Sam enter with another jar.

“No, I don’t think so, and this one, is the last one.” Sam says holding the jar up for Dean to see it better.

“Is that dirt? And a rune?” he asks.

Sam nods. “It’s Algiz,” he says and smiles brightly.

~19~  
Dean isn’t stupid, but he really would love to smack his head on the table right now because he needed this long to figure things out.

“Sam.” He says and his voice is firm. Sam looks up and sees nothing but some newspaper articles in front of him. “Could you please kindly explain that to me?” he asks, his voice now rising.

“Well, yes. These are dead people.” He says.

“Just dead people or people you killed?” he shouts. “Jesus, Sam! What were you thinking?” Dean is screaming now. He hadn’t let Sam say anything yet, so he waits patiently.

~20~  
“We were so fucked before, but now! And can I remind you of the dead hunter? The hunter you killed? We covered our tracks. Why couldn’t you do the same here? Don’t you think other hunters will find that kinda interesting?” he sits down and looks at Sam.

“No, different states. No one will find a connection.” Sam says.

“I DID!” Dean screams again.

“But you are different from them – you know me.” Sam says patiently.

“God, Sammy! Why the fuck did you do it in the first place? Why kill these people?” Dean asks.

“To save you,” he whispers.

~21~  
“You’ll sacrifice your soul for me?” Dean asks.

“Well, yeah, aren’t you doing the same for me? Didn’t Dad do it for you…and who knows what Mom did?” Sam says.

“You are totally insane! Why kill these people? What did you gain from it?!” Dean shouts again.

“Sacrificed. You know it’s much nobler.” Sam answers. Dean shoves his hands in his pockets because he really would love to punch the living shit out of Sam right now – and that wouldn’t do anyone any good. “They call me the BOYKING, Dean. That means something.”

Dean snorts. “Yeah, you are all insane!”

~22~  
“No, it means I’m part demon. Their powers in a mortal body. And I was thinking, Dean, what good could it be to have these powers? What did the yellow-eyed demon want from me? A mortal, so easily hurt? So easily killed?” Dean shuts his eyes at that. He can’t think about that now. He has to focus.

“So, boyking, you then came up with the plan to kill – excuse me – sacrifice four people to break the deal with the demon?” Dean asks; the sarcasm is evident in his voice.

“Yes and no. I found this ancient ritual…” Sam says.

~23~  
Dean cuts him of. “What the hell Sam!? No ancient rituals. We don’t mess with things like this.” Well, not anymore… he thinks and Sam’s bitch-face tells him that he thinks exactly the same.

“Let me talk.” Sam says. Dean doesn’t want to hear any of it but he lets Sam talk. “This ancient ritual: It can give you another faith.” Sam says in a rush.

“NO! NO! NO. And I’ll tell you something else: NO!!!” Dean is glaring. “What are you? Insane?! This isn’t even an option in a million years – the hell, this isn’t an option ever!”

~24~  
“Dean! I could make everything right again.” Sam pleads.

“Are you listening to yourself?” Dean wants to know. “That doesn’t make any sense. And you know it! Why can’t you let me die?” He wants to know.

“Because I can’t. I CAN’T. You’re all I have left now.” Sam screams now too.

“How selfish.” Dean says.

“Runs in the family.” Sam answers. “The people are already dead, Dean…” Sam says.

“That doesn’t make anything right or easy.” Dean answers and turns away. “And it turns you. Makes you less yourself.” He whispers.

“Need the demon-powers for that…” Sam says firm.

~25~  
“Dean. It’s easy. All the destinies they’ve seen, all the fortunes they told, all the faith. I can bundle it, can make it mine, can make it yours.” Sam says quietly.

“What about you? You’re dead when the deal’s broken. You know that!” Dean really wants to hurt something, when he’s honest he wants to hurt Sam.

“I can change my faith too…” Sam says.

“You mean, you will steal the destinies of other people, sacrifice them to change ours?” Dean wants to know.

“Yes. That’s the plan.” Sam says. “Faceless people, Dean…we don’t know them, never will,” he says.

~26~  
“It’s still not right!” Dean says, but his resolve is crumbling, Sam knows. It’s like when they were kids and Sam wanted to stay up longer to watch TV. He knows all the signs.

“They owe us something. You know it.” Sam says firm.  
Silence. He has to wait, he knows; Dean will give in. He will; he doesn’t want to die. No one does, really.  
Dean knows it’s not right, but Sam is right: The world owes them. Hell, god himself owes them.

“Second hand faith, hmm?” Deans asks.

“Yes, if you want to put it like that. Yes.”

 

~end~


End file.
